Okay so as I sit here writing this it’s 62 degrees outside.
Now don’t get me wrong, I happen to loathe the cold weather, so I’m not sad
about this weather at all, but I am a little worried.
My flowering
quince is flowering, in December. Sigh. Also the hydrangea buds have cracked
and I have fresh, delicate little leaves starting to unfurl. This does not make
me happy. I tell my clients to grab a butt load of burlap and start wrapping all
their hydrangeas, but I’m not planning on follow my own advice. I’m thinking of
doing one or two, but I have so many that it’s not really possible, or
affordable for me to do them all. So I’m ignoring them and hoping that we’re
going to have a winter like the one we had the year I gardened all the way
through February -- but I’m not holding my breath.
Instead I’ve decided to try and get in the holiday mood.
It’s a little tough right now, as it feels like September out there, and even
though our tree is up and decorated, it never really feels like the season is
upon us until I make my own wreath. Making your own wreath is one of the best
reasons to work in a garden shop or a florist and I recommend it highly.
Normally I join in one of our wreath making classes and starting with just a
wire ring, a bunch of evergreen cuttings and a spool of wire, I build the whole
thing from scratch, but this year I had a client visit scheduled at the same
time as the first class, so I had to start with a basic wreath and add onto it.
As you can imagine, my wreath is very similar to my
personality. Or at least to my hair. It’s a little wild, unkempt and unruly,
almost improvisational you might say. Which is the same way I cook and I
garden. It means sometimes things work out fabulously, and sometimes they go
terribly wrong. In baking, improvisation is not always rewarded. In music it
can be marvelous. Unfortunately I cannot carry a tune. And although my garden
looks a little more Miss Haversham than Gertrude Jeykll that’s the look I’m
after. Fortunately, wiring layers and textures of greenery in a circle also seems
to work out for me.
Blue Atlas cedar, white pine and noble fir, plus a few left
over pieces of false cypress scrounged off the floor were placed on top and
wired around my base wreath with the loops of wire tucked under the existing
balsam. The blue Atlas cedar I cut long so it would extend out like Farah
Fawcett’s wings in that bathing suit poster. Then once everything was secure, I
grabbed a handful of shorter greens to tuck under and conceal any exposed
wires. These I also twisted up and forced into rutting out positions like
random Joan Mitchell brushstrokes of green. Luckily there was also some seeded
eucalyptus left over from a special order that I was able to grab and tuck in
as well. The result was pure Paige. Explosive, excessive and a little off
kilter. Intentionally.
At home I knew I still had last year’s silver bow, saved in
my Christmas ornament box, so I didn’t make a new one, although I was super
tempted by the burlap ribbon we have. I was also good and declined the proffered
pinecones, dried pomegranates and limes that were already “picked” or attached
to the green sticks used to work attachments into floral arrangements. And although
I am dying to use artichokes in a wreath I really want to try and get the ones
in my garden to flower more profusely so I can dry and use my own.
I was almost seduced by the silver glitter branches I used
two years ago, but sense prevailed. That wreath was so big it didn’t fit on my front
door and I had to hang it between the two windows on my front porch, but it was
an extraordinarily crazy and fabulous wreath as I used the branches in a radial
way, sticking them into the sides of the wreath at a angle so that it resembled
one of those starburst gilt mirror you see in interior decorating magazines -- if
it was being copied and constructed by a drunk woodland fairy with a glitter
fixation.
I also plan next year to grow and dry a ton of allium
Schuberti that I intend to spray either silver of gold and use not only on my
wreath but also as ornaments on our Christmas tree. I had planed to harvest and
dry my gigantic angelica gigas flowers this year, but I blew my chances and
left them out too long and they not only got soggy, but I also lost my ability
to collect more than a handful of seeds to sow for next year. All the more
reason why I MUST win the lottery and stop this silly thing called, “having to
earn a living.” It just takes up far too much of my gardening time.
I worked quickly today, getting most of the wreath done in
about 20 minutes and then hung it up on a nail to see it and to add the final
touches, and yes it could definitely have used a little more work, and a lot
more tweaking but I liked it. Hands sticky and black with sap I threw it in the
car with a pile of cast off Christmas tree cutting to dress up next year’s
tulip pots, brought it home and hung it on the door where, glass of wine in
hand, I attached my saved silver bow. Perfection.
Then I sent a pretty sad photo of my finished product (shot
in the dark with the unfortunate assistance of my iphone’s flash) to a friend,
complete with its off-center silver adornment and she said it was perfect, that
the bow was exactly how I would wear one in my hair, “slightly awkward and too
close to the forehead.” And of course she loved it. Which is the best kind of
Christmas present.
Paige Patterson learned wreath-making basics from Denise’s
classes at Marders and has never looked back.